


Battle Scars

by callmebabydoll



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Men Crying, Reader Is Not Corrin, Scars, Stitches, Xander is trying so hard, everyone is in their feelings, xander being vulnerable, xander please see a doctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23607484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmebabydoll/pseuds/callmebabydoll
Summary: As if you couldn't worry over the crown-prince enough.
Relationships: Marx | Xander/Reader
Kudos: 27





	Battle Scars

The wind-piercing swing of Camilla's axe as she sent her foes flying. The crackle of Odin's tome as his adversary's body was wracked with electricity. The stretch of Niles' bow as he knocked another arrow. All of these sounds the direct results of your orders. 

Iago's treason warranted his fate, yet even still, Nohr couldn't do without a tactician. Some said you were too young to know how to direct troops. Others said you were too good to be loyal to Nohr, paranoia lingering from Iago's actions.

"That's it! All cavalry! Advance to the southeastern fort!", you cried, a book held out in the direction.

The hooves of hundreds of horses made their way to the target. One, though, stopped at your side. The crown-prince looked over at you, and for a moment, you believe you saw him smile. But just for a moment.

"You must know that you're doing incredible things for us (Y/N). This battle has been in our favor every second."

Your heart flipped at his praises, something you'd never get enough of. You glanced at his hand, always checking for a ring at any given point. It was a wonder to you, how he wasn't married. Imagining his praises as you cooked for him, and the way he could praise you for giving him such wonderful children. It all-

"(Y/N)? Are you well? You look as if you're burning up."

Your thoughts popped like a soap bubble.

"No sir! Wait. I mean, yes milord! Please, go and assist the cavalry."

Giving you a worried look, he turned to the southeast. Setting off, he unleashed a battle cry, easily your favorite of all the others.

~ Conflict's chime dies down...

You rubbed your temples, gazing upon the mass of maps and diagrams on your cluttered desk. The candle in your lamp, desperate for a replacement, flickered weakly against the dark. Shoving your chair back, you stood, going outside for a walk.

You rounded corners for what seemed like an eternity, the scenery blurring together at some points. Sighing, you broke off into a clearing in the trees close to a creek. It was a haven you frequented when the orchestration of battle became far too taxing, which it often did.

But to your surprise, you weren't the only regular.

His shirt discarded at his side, a medical kit laid out, Xander sat on the ground, tending to his wounds, old and new. Pouring a substance onto a cloth, then applying it to a wound just shy of being a gash, he hissed, tossing his head back. Tears welled up at the sides of his eyes, threatening to fall.

He let out a shaky breath, then swallowed. Extending his arm, he examined it. It needed to be stitched, and Xander knew that, eyeing the needle and surgical thread. But he knew he couldn't do it himself, as was the case with similar wounds. 

"Some crown-prince you are, Xander.", he said to himself, "You can't even swallow your pride and go to the medics like a normal man. Pathetic."

Your jaw dropped, not believing your eyes, much less your ears. It was painful, watching him like that. You couldn't take it. You wouldn't.

"Xander...", you said softly, in an attempt to not startle him.

His gaze snapped up at you, surprise and embarrassment all over him. His cheeks looked like a fresh sunburn, and it only seemed to get worse.

You walked over and sat down in front of him, tucking your legs underneath you. Grabbing his hand, you pulled his arm towards you, taking the medical kit as well.

"Here, hold onto my shoulder.", you said.

He tentatively clasped his hand on your shoulder, watching as you threaded a needle. Sizing up the wound, you began lightly pinching it into place.

"Talk to me, how long have you been tending to your own wounds like this?"

"I've done so this entire conflict. I don't want to burden the already busy medics."

You sighed, positioning the needle against his flesh, ready to run it through.

"This might hurt, so grip my shoulder as hard as you need to."

"But-"

"I'm doing this for you because I want to, Xander. You need this. Please, let me help you.", you said, your eyes piercing him like Cupid's arrow. They did that every time.

He nodded. You pushed the needle through, feeling him squeeze your shoulder. Connecting the two sides, you tied the thread off, deciding to give him a zipper stitching. And you repeated, going down the wound till it was closed. You retrieved a bandage, gingerly wrapping your work up.

"Let me see the others.", you said.

"Pardon?", he responded.

"Your other wounds. I don't care how old they are. You've been doing this by yourself. It's better for someone else to treat you."

"There's a decently big one on my back.. I stood in front of a mirror and struggled with it.", he confessed.

You gestured him to turn around. He did so, allowing you to grab the bandage and pull it off. He winced, as it pulled the skin, spots of infection dotted along its length. You frowned, gently pressing your finger tips against the areas.

"How does it feel when I apply pressure?", you asked.

"Painful... The skin.. It feels full."

"You've got a pretty decent infection going on back here."

He looked back, attempting to see what you were referring to. A needle between your fingers, you stuck it into one of the pockets. Xander gasped as it popped and started oozing a wild amount of pus. You grabbed a cloth and placed it on his skin, soaking up the viscous fluid.

"I'm sorry that you're the one doing this. You should be studying.. Not popping cystic infections on the crown-prince's back."

"Will you just shut the hell up!?", you shouted.

Xander looked back again, scowling this time. Your heart raced with fear.

"Forgive me, milord. Please.. I just hate hearing you talk down on yourself. You're so valuable to everyone. I myself don't know what I'd do without you here. I assure you, I hate these scars as much as you do. I hate the idea that you even have scars to begin with."

There was silence on his part as you continued to work with his infection.

"Understand that I've been manipulating my tactics so that you're injured to a minimum. Of course, I can see that you may get hurt anyway. Your safety isn't always guaranteed out there, but, damnit, I can stay up all night and try."

More silence. He looked forward.

"I'm truly sorry I yelled at you like that. I don't hate you by any means. Far from it. Hate isn't even on the spectrum here."

Wiping down his back with a disinfectant and administering an antibiotic, you swallowed hard. You had more to say. Your throat burned with it. The confession clawed at you, your feelings a caged beast that could wreak havoc if let out. The barricade in your throat was breaking, it was giving in.

And so, it crashed.

"I love you, Xander. Probably way too much. I suppose it may be the death of me, you know? If something actually happened to you, I wouldn't have a reason anymore. Maybe I'm overthinking it, but I'd like to think that I can't live without you. So far it's been true. I find myself thinking about you and ways to keep you safe nearly every waking hour."

Covering the wound in a crisp, fresh bandage, you hesitated, not wanting to look him in the eyes. Wanting to bash your head against a wall for letting your emotions spill out, you wondered if he had even listened to you. You inhaled and cleared your throat.

"It's done, sir."

He turned to you, eyes overflowing, his cheeks showing previously dried tears. You felt yourself about to cry as well. There was something so raw and surreal about seeing Xander cry.

"You've been excused for yelling at me. Frankly, I deserved it.", he sniffed a bit, "The way I see myself is unbecoming of a crown-prince."

He wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands. Shifting his position in order to sit cross-legged, he looked you in the eyes, his face just as red as it was when you showed up.

"You're also not the only one.. You know?"

"What do you mean?"

He looked down at his lap, crossing his arms in an attempt to gain confidence. When really, to you, he looked like he was pouting. 

"Milord-"

"Just Xander is fine.", he interrupted.

"Alright, Xander.", you answered hesitantly, "Is something the matter?"

"Yes."

"May I ask what's bothering you?"

"I am, in fact, quite upset with myself."

You frowned again. How much would it take for him to understand his worth?

"I fell in love with you, but I hadn't figured you'd reciprocate my feelings, so I never planned for what to do past that, let alone a reverse-confession of sorts."

"For the love of the gods, Xander. You're the crown-prince of Nohr, can't you at least figure someone's got to want you? Furthermore, do you even look in the mirror? Pardon me for this, but you're hotter beyond any man I've ever seen!", you said, your cheeks matching his now, despite how good it felt to let it all out.

You grabbed his hands and sighed.

"Well, I guess we're in love."

He lifted your hands and kissed them.

"I'll try to refrain from getting battle scars anymore. Just stop losing sleep over me."

"If I was in your arms I wouldn't lose a thing."

**Author's Note:**

> we stan xander getting in his feelings


End file.
